The Detective and The Artist
by SalconeDestrivina
Summary: Sherlock has a secret. One that he has successfully kept from everyone in his life (including Mycroft). This secret just happens to stand 5'3 and works as an artist/bartender. But what happens when someone stumbles onto Sherlock's little secret? The rating will definitely go up...will be rated 'M'
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: The Detective and the Artist

**Summary**: Sherlock has a secret. One that he has successfully kept from everyone in his life (including Mycroft). This secret just happens to stand 5'3 and works as an artist/bartender. But what happens when someone stumbles onto Sherlock's little secret?

**Rating**: Rated 'M' …cause you'll see why

**This chapter is dedicated to therednecklace as they are the one that said 'go for it!' **but I warn you dear…everything is not as it seems in this story…word of warning for future reference…lots of little plot bunnies throwing their stuffing around in this story…

Oh this story completely ignores season three since I missed episodes 2&3 because I had to work (I hate overnights!) so the only thing from that season I will be using is the explanation on how he survived the fall… that is all.

Prologue

"Caught"

"When I get in there I'm going to kick his arse." Lestrade grumbled to John who merely shrugged. "I mean it's only 5 and the git wont answer his phone!"

"Greg he might have fallen asleep." John explained always one to stick out his neck for a friend. "John it's five in the afternoon and he hasn't left the flat in at least two weeks…You know it will be bad."

John nodded knowing what the Detective Inspector was implying. "You think he's relapsed…"

Greg sighed before giving a nod. "I know you don't want to hear it but these signs are a bit not good alright? This is generally the stuff we look out for before we do a drugs bust…so just prepare for the worst alright?"

* * *

John and Greg silently walked up the stairs, skipping over the one that creaked trying not to alert the detective inside the flat of their presence. John held a finger to his lips as he quietly slipped his key in the lock and opened the door only to stop in confusion.

"John what is…what the hell?"

Lying on the couch in his blue robe was Sherlock. His face relaxed in sleep. But what really surprised the two was the small man lying across his chest, all curled up and also asleep.

"Who the hell is that?" John forgot to whisper making the two jolt up in surprise.

"What are you doing here?!" Sherlock exclaimed making the small and mysterious person frown. "Well I guess secrets out of the bag now… to be clear I didn't do it." He said as he got to his feet and stretched languorously. "Who wants tea?" he asked before moving into the kitchen very much aware of the stares he was drawing.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes John."

"He has very colorful hair…"

Sherlock made a show of leaning back to look into the kitchen "yes he does." He finally said ignoring the fact that the person he was just curled up on the couch with had longish hair with streaks of blue, green, pink, purple, red, and yellow stripes which made a bold statement. John started to say something before closing his mouth with a shake of the head. "Now do either of you want tea?"

* * *

John and Greg sat across from the couch where Sherlock sat down and the mystery person had his legs thrown over Sherlock's lap. Both were sipping tea as if nothing unusual has happened.

"Okay I have to ask…Sherlock who the hell is he?" Greg finally broke down and asked making him smirk.

"His name is Ciaran Mac Amhlaoibh and…well he's my husband…don't tell Mycroft." Sherlock said as both of them spit out their tea and 'Ciaran' laughed. "See I told you, you should have introduced me earlier." He laughed and handed them some napkins.

John looked highly confused. "I don't understand…how long have you two been married?" He asked making Sherlock grimace. "Go ahead Sherl…tell them." Ciaran's eyes pierced the detectives giving Lestrade the impression that this was the only person in the world that Sherlock was afraid of.

"Well John…Ciaran and I have been married…going on two years now… but been together for six years before that."

John stared at the detective. "Wait I've known you for five years…"

"Well done John you can count…OW!" The detective cried when his husband thwacked him upside the head. "Don't be smart." Ciaran smiled before turning back to John.

"Why don't we know about you?" John asked Ciaran looking a little hurt. "Love do you want to start at the beginning while I go get dressed?" the Irish man asked as he left the comfort of his husbands lap to wander into Sherlock's (their?) bedroom.

* * *

A/N aright folks

Okay I had to…Ciaran broken down is Ciar- 'Dark' and the diminutive –in it means little dark one… pronounced 'keer +awn' Or 'Keer+in" (like Kieran)

As always I love for people to write things down in that little box at the bottom and fill it with just about what ever pops into their minds…hopefully all good stuff : D

Thank you for reading the next chapter will be up…eventually…I really have to get my laptop from my sister's house so I can actually write more than one chapter at a time…

Anyways

Lots of Love

Salcone Destrivina


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: The Detective and the Artist

**Summary**: Sherlock has a secret. One that he has successfully kept from everyone in his life (including Mycroft). This secret just happens to stand 5'3 and works as an artist/bartender. But what happens when someone stumbles onto Sherlock's little secret?

**Rating**: Rated 'M' …cause you'll see why

**Thank you** to Wildarms17, jujulib63, erobin, StrawberryRocket, Qwerty124, and missmalia72400 for following my story and StrawberryRocket, missmalia72400 for favoring it as well

Strange question posed to Qwerty…is your profile name named after the Linkin Park song?

Chapter two

The beginning

Sherlock sat on the sofa watching John and Lestrade stare at him with wide eyes. _At what point is the beginning? When we first met or when we first started 'dating'? At what point is the actual beginning of a story?_ He thought to himself then shook his head to clear the thoughts.

"Alright how did you two first meet?" John asked as Ciaran came out of Sherlock's bedroom. "Who wants tea?" He asked with a smile making the other two of them stare yet again.

John couldn't help but stare at Sherlock's husband. Ciaran stood only 5,3 and had skin almost as pale as Sherlock's. His hair was a striking mixture of colors ranging from blue, green, purples and reds all mixed together and instead of the hair laying flat it almost looked as if he had been mildly electrocuted. He was dressed as a punk rocker, adorned with chains that wrapped around his waist and draped over his legs. He jingled when he walked. But the most surprising thing shocked John most of all when Ciaran handed him his tea.

Ciaran had bright purple eyes.

"You have purple eyes…" John remarked making the detective scoff. "Thank you for that obvious observation John…anything else you wish to impart on us?" He snarled then winced as Ciaran slapped him upside the head. "Don't be snide. Yes John I have Alexandria genesis which turns your eyes purple… Now I believe…Lestrade is it? Asked a question Sherlock." The small Irishman said as he sat next to the detective and draped his legs over Sherlock's lap.

"The beginning then.."

* * *

Sherlock was strolling down the street admiring the scene before him with hope in his heart and a jaunt to his step.

At this point John reached over and slapped the detective upside the head. Making Ciaran laugh. "Alright fine the _real_ story."

* * *

Sherlock raced down the street, chasing

"Obviously Mr. Sampson crashed into the Kiosk at high sped causing the kiosk to flip over spilling the paintings everywhere. Now are there any other inane questions you would like to ask?" Sherlock snapped at the person before looking up into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. They were a vibrant purple and were surprisingly amused. "I can see that but what I meant was _why_ he crashed into my stand." The man smiled down at him.

_My face feels hot…why does my face feel hot?_ Sherlock thought to himself before he handcuffed the suspect to a wrought iron fence. "That guy who handcuffed him were chasing 'im down the street." Derek replied as a police car pulled up alongside the group.

"Damn it Sherlock! Can't you ever just wait for us?!" an older gentleman almost yelled as he got out of the car. "Sherlock? Man I thought I had it bad." The man chuckled as he picked up the paintings. Sherlock glared at him making him laugh out loud.

"hello Sherlock my name is Ciaran Mac Amhlaoibh. How do you do?" He smiled making Sherlock's face get hot again.

"Irish people aside, I see you caught him. Now are you going to follow me back to the Yard or are you just going to go off on your own again?" the copper said making the Sherlock glare at him.

"I am perfectly capable of finding my own way Lestrade." Sherlock snapped at him before turning back to Ciaran, only to find he was gone. "Sorry bout that mate, he had to split." Derek said as he replaced the last painting which caught Sherlock's eye.

It was of a large skull.

* * *

"Wait so you literally ran into him?" John asked and before Sherlock could respond Ciaran slapped a hand over the offending mouth. "Technically the suspect ran my Kiosk." He smiled as Lestrade mentally slapped himself. "I remember you! We teased Sherlock for weeks because we caught him blushing!" He smiled making the detective flush in anger. "I wasn't blushing!" he protested.

"Sure you weren't now be getting on with the story!"

* * *

A few weeks later Sherlock was had successfully put Ciaran out of his mind. That is, until Sherlock was asked to investigate a case of human trafficking.

In order to infiltrate the ring he had to find one of the handlers and the only one they could unearth worked in a gay club.

So he dressed up in his tightest pants, fishnet shirt and glittered his face before going out to the club, quickly gaining access and heading towards the dance floor.

After about an hour of dancing he decided that he hand blended in quite well and headed towards the bar to chat up a bartender as to where his suspect was.

"Fins of Faith please." He said in his most winsome smile which successfully flustered the flamboyant bartender. "Oh I'm so sorry sweetie! I'm off now! But Cere will help you!" he fluttered as another bartender came to take his place.

"Hey there! What can I get you?! Holy crap I know you!" the bartender smiled making Sherlock's eyes go wide. "Sherlock right?"

_Crap!_ He thought then smiled at the other man. "Ciaran right? Or do you go by Cere? I thought you were an artist!" He almost shouted as he saw Ciaran mix his drink. Hopefully he could get some information by using his previous acquaintance with the bartender.

"Oh I bartend too…as you can obviously see…" the Irish man replied making Sherlock grin. "Oh and very nice job by the way."

Sherlock was confused. "Nice job?" He asked when Cere started to fix a couple Sex on the Beaches for some customers. "I don't know what you mean."

"Maintaining eye contact, leaning forward to show signs of interest, Head tipped gently to the side to show signs of harmlessness and of course using my name to induce familiarity…nice job. Now what did you really come up here for? Because I don't think it was a Fins of Faith." Ciaran smiled as Sherlock openly gaped until the bartender lifted a hand and closed the detectives mouth.

"I'm investigating…I need information about one of your co-workers." He finally responded making Ciaran smile. "What kind of information and about who?"

"Do you know if Jeff Bowdeen was working last Thursday between eight pm and three am?"

"I can honestly say no he wasn't. He called me at about eight thirty to cover his shift." Ciaran responded as he handed a customer a yager bomb over sherlocks shoulder. "That's what I thought! Thank you Ciaran!" he shouted before running out the club doors.

"Tuilli didn't pay! Go hifreann leat!" Ciaran swore then turned his attention back to the customers.

* * *

Tuilli-bastard

Go hifreann leat- to hell with you

Ciaran is very Irish so having him swear in Irish…well that's just fun XD

Anyways hope you liked this chapter! I'll see you next one!

And as always I love it when you guys write in that little box down there and hit send, it gives me warm and fuzzies X)

Salcone Destrivina


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: The Detective and the Artist

**Summary**: Sherlock has a secret. One that he has successfully kept from everyone in his life (including Mycroft). This secret just happens to stand 5'3 and works as an artist/bartender. But what happens when someone stumbles onto Sherlock's little secret?

**Rating**: Rated 'M' …cause you'll see why

**Thank you to**: loveforever7250, mayflower55, moon cutie, therednecklace, and wildarms17 for following The Detective and The Artist.

Thank you to therednecklace and CJcraziness for favoring my story!

**Response to reviews:**

**GeorgyannWayson**: I really hope it is something you have never seen before…cause it came out of my head lol and don't worry i'll keep going with this story!

**Qwerty124**: I've never heard it either but I came across the song Qwerty a while ago…you reminded me of its existence haha. And you'll hear a lot more about their history…about eight years worth lol.

**Therednecklace**: thank you for your compliments! They make me feel all warm and funny inside XD. And I love the fact that you ship John and Sherlock but unfortunately that's not this story. I think the chapters will get REALLY interesting once they actually start dating…because Ciaran has a secret too… and that's all I'm going to say on that one :)

Chapter 3

Something was agitating Sherlock. He knew that he was forgetting something and it was driving him up the wall. He knew it had something to do with the flat... "Painting!" he suddenly jumped up and shouted making Mrs. Hudson spill the tea she was preparing for him. "Oh Sherlock! look what you made me do!" She cried out as he bolted from the flat.

A few quick turns down alleyways and through a set of double doors and he was standing in front of Ciaran. "Are you stalking me?" he smiled at the detective making him glare" What? No of course not, otherwise I would be hidden from you. I want to buy one of your paintings."

Ciaran smiled as he wiped down the bar. "Hi Ciaran, How are you? I'm good how are you Sherlock?" He grinned at the detective making him glare. "I'm fine now about that painting."

"Which painting?"

"The white skull on the blue background." Sherlock sighed. "OH! you want to buy Henry! Alright but it will cost you 150 pounds though." He said then stared as the tall man waived a hand. "That's fine, bring the painting to 221b baker street and I'll give you the money then." He responded before strutting out the door. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm never going to be seen again?" Ciaran asked himself then shrugged and began to slice up fruit for the night's garnishes.

The next day Ciaran found himself standing on the threshold just a little bit confused and perturbed. "I SAID I WAS SORRY!" he shouted as he lifted the painting back into the cab and sighed. "Alright it's not 221 barstow street...ba, ba...barten? Bake...BAKER! 221 baker street please!" He asked the cabbie making the old man chortle. "You got it boss!"

Needless to say when he was dropped off at 221 Baker Street, he was more than a little hesitant to ring the bell, but did so anyways.

"Oh hello dear!" an older woman smiled at him as he mentally slapped himself for the second time. "Oh I am sorry I believe I have the wrong address...again." He said giving his best embarrassed smile. "You never know dear, who are you looking for?" She asked with an indulgent smile. "Well madam, I'm looking for a Sherlock...he never did give me his last name and shouted the address when he was going out the door so I only caught the 221 B bah part of what he was saying." he said with a small smile.

"Oh then it is your lucky day! Sherlock is my tenant! He's just up the stairs!" She smiled and wondered what it was the boy was carrying as it was almost as tall as him.

"Thank you Madam!" He smiled over his shoulder and knocked on the door then winced at the aggravated shout of 'Go AWAY!'

Ciaran found himself smiling at the older woman yet again before he opening the door. "No I will not go away. I've brought you the painting and I'll be damned if I am going to lug it all the way back to my place you git." He said as he walked inside as bold as brass only to be greeted by a half-naked Sherlock carrying a blow torch.

"Oh it only you. I thought you were Lestrade. Now go on let's see the painting." Sherlock said as he nonchalantly put out the blow torch.

_oh god...I really REALLY want...not the time_ Ciaran thought as he began to unwrap the painting he brought with him. "No idea who or what a Lestrade is." he said absentmindedly. "No one important just a DI...I like it."

Lestrade automatically interrupted with a 'hey!' and threw a pillow at Sherlock.

Ciaran grabbed the pillow and threw it back, hitting the detective inspector upside the head. "a bheith ciúin agus éisteacht!" he growled then shook his head at the confused looks. "I actually know that one, he said be quiet and listen…" Sherlock said evenly as he sipped his tea. "Well continue with the story!"

Ciaran shook his head with a small smile. "Well you're supposed to like it. What use is a painting that you don't like?" He said as he turned back towards the detective. "have to ask about the blowtorch though..."

"You wouldn't understand and many people buy painting and tchotchkes that they don't necessarily like. I think i'll hang it here." Sherlock said as he grabbed the painting and held it by the wall. "Well people are weird like that." Ciaran responded as he looked around for a hammer and nail.

"Here hold this right here." Sherlock said and walked over to the kitchen area. "So explain about the blowtorch." Ciaran asked while holding the painting against the wall. "I was trying to melt a gold ring to see the pattern it made." He said simply then stared at the bartender as he nodded. "good thing that Gold has a low melting point."

Sherlock stared at the artist then gave a smile. But before he could speak Mrs. Hudson came into the flat carrying a tea tray. "Oh good your friends still here Sherlock, would you like some tea?" She smiled and ignored the glare from her tenant. "Mrs. Hudson this is Ciaran."

"Hold on. Mrs. Hudson knew Ciaran?" John asked with mixed look of astonishment and anger. "Sort of but not really. Hush now and pay attention." Ciaran smiled at the doctor. For some reason every time Ciaran smiled at him, John felt the over whelming urge to blush.

"Alright that's fair...Wait is anyone else hungry?" He asked trying not to look at the Irishman. "Who wants Chinese?"

You should always end a chapter with an order of good Chinese, You can tell a good Chinese place by the bottom third of a door handle...or so I'm told.

Anyways please read and review! I LOVE it when you do! (oh my god I'm rhyming now…GAH!)

Salcone Destrivina


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: The Detective and the Artist

**Summary**: Sherlock has a secret. One that he has successfully kept from everyone in his life (including Mycroft). This secret just happens to stand 5'3 and works as an artist/bartender. But what happens when someone stumbles onto Sherlock's little secret?

**Rating**: Rated 'M' …cause you'll see why

**Thank you to**: The Puzzler of Riddles and lostfeather1 for following my story

Thank you to: lostfeather1 for favoring my story and I hope you eventually find your feather

ERMERGERD! RERVEWS!

**The Puzzler of Riddles**: I have no idea what a 'Mary Sue story' is…care to explain? And Ciaran's personality is under developed because we haven't seen much of him, like you said. But yea, I understand about being hesitant on OC stories, cause you'd think that whatever the story is based off of has enough characters haha.

**Therednecklace**: HIYA! Answer to the first part of your review of 'Wow, why would you say that? He better not be having an affair because Sherlock could tell and now I've made myself sad.':…I'll never tell Muahahahaha I mean haha…and I hope you don't stay sad for long cause then you'll make me sad :( unhappy face lol. To the second part of your review about the Chinese restaurant bit…I've never heard of anyone including that in their story so I'd thought I'd add it in at the end lol.

Yea onto chapter 4 now…

* * *

Chapter 4

Unfortunately before they could re-start the story there came a pounding on the door. "Sherlock! Open up!" came a shout from the other side. "Oh man I'm so sorry I forgot to call off the drugs bust!" Lestrade pleaded as Sherlock went to open the door.

Ciaran smiled grimly knowing that he'd be subjected to yet another group of gawkers, only this time he didn't think they were friendly ones.

* * *

Sherlock opened the door to find Anderson, Sally, Dimmock and a bunch of other cops. "What do you want?" He asked only to be brushed aside. "The detective Inspector told us that if he didn't call within two hours then to start the drugs bust. So stand down freak." Sally snarled as a multitude of people swarmed in from the corridor.

_Freak?_ Ciaran thought to himself and smiled inwardly. He could have a lot of fun with this woman and as long as he didn't damage her he thought he could get away with it as well.

"Well this is exciting, anyone for tea?" He smiled brightly at the soldier and DI sitting across from him. "Oh, yes please." John spoke for both of them and smiled as the Irishman went to go and prepare their drinks.

* * *

"Hold up..who the hell are you?" Sally asked when this thin rocker type man walked into the kitchen as she was rummaging through the drawers.

"Oh! Hello, I'm Ciaran, how do you do?" He smiled with false kindness. "I'm doing fine… why are you here?" Sally asked suspiciously as the man only beamed at her. "Oh I'm making tea for John and Greg…would you like some as well…I didn't catch your name." he replied as he stuck out a hand for her to shake.

Sally looked at the hand then back at the brightly colored man. "Sally, Sally Donovan."

_Why not?_ She thought as the fact that the man was handsome sunk in. Her Friday night was already ruined by coming here and if she could get a date with a highly attractive man then it wouldn't be a complete waste.

"Oh it is nice to meet a fellow Irish! What part of the Ire do you hail from Mrs. Donovan?" The man beamed as he got out a tea pot. "Cork…and I'm not married."

The man's face fell. "Oh I'm sorry dear heart. I would have sworn that someone would have snatched you up as pretty as you are!" he flirted making her blush.

"Oh no I'm pretty dedicated to my job at the moment…What did you say your name was again?" She smiled gently at the man who stepped closer. "Ciaran Mac Amhlaoibh at your service madam." He smiled yet again.

_God he's cute._ Sally thought to herself and took a step closer, swinging her curly black hair over her shoulder to reveal the line of her neck. "And what do you do Ciaran?" she all but purred.

"Oh I'm an artist by trade." He smiled back and leaned into her.

_Good he's interested…_ Sally thought and fluttered her eyes at him. "Would you care to go out sometime _Ciaran_?" she purred at him.

* * *

Ciaran leaned closer to the woman making sure she saw the line of his body and just as she was about to lean in to him he started to speak. "Madam I wouldn't go out with you if you were the last person in the world. You know why? Because you come in here and immediately insult Sherlock who I am very fond of. That is strike one against you but then you introduced yourself. That was what made you a target my pretty little liar. You see I know you lied about Sherlock all those years ago, I know that you and Anderson went above Lestrades head to get Sherlock fired. You were _instrumental_ in his fall and fake suicide and made everything a whole lot harder for him. Then you come in here and start the same things all over again. I can't stand people like you and you better hope that you don't meet me in a dark alley way sweet heart." He smiled at her though his eyes remained dark.

Sally glared at him as her face contorted into an evil smirk. "And what would you do? Paint me to death?"

"Oh my pretty little liar, I would make those nightmares, those things that wake you up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat come to fruition and I will laugh while doing it." He whispered in her ear and smiled at the squeak that came from her throat, only after that did he lean back.

"Tea?" He smiled sweetly as she paled and hurried from the flat.

* * *

"Sherlock?"

"Yes John."

"Why did Sally just…well flee?"

Sherlock looked over at his husband who smiled back as be brought the tray of tea over. "Ciaran…what did you say to sally?" He asked as Ciaran sat down next to him.

"I have no idea we were having a lovely chat when she suddenly just turned and left…Did you know that her family hails from cork?" He smiled serenely at the three and struck up another conversation with them as Anderson toddled over to give a nod towards Sherlock.

John stared at the man for a second as he sipped his tea. He knew, just KNEW that there was something off about this man. Not just off…something dangerous.

* * *

And that's the end of this chapter. I know Anderson is being…well he's not nice but he's also not a jerk like he had been in the first two seasons…I like Anderson in the third season, he's learned his lesson…then grew a beard. What is with all the facial hair anyways? I think that's how Gatiss and Moffat show that time has passed I guess…weird.

Anyways that's all for now see you next chapter!

Salcone Destrivina


	5. Chapter 5

**Title**: The Detective and the Artist

**Summary**: Sherlock has a secret. One that he has successfully kept from everyone in his life (including Mycroft). This secret just happens to stand 5'3 and works as an artist/bartender. But what happens when someone stumbles onto Sherlock's little secret?

**Rating**: Rated 'M' …cause you'll see why

**Thank you to**: kinkymistress87, SkyBlue24, NyxLoon and Tsunayuki Takahashi for favoring my story!

**Thank you to**: kinkymistress87, benedictedsherlockian, nachobeats823, SkyBlue24, NyxLoon, and Tsunayuki Takahashi for following my story!

**Answers to reviews!**

CJcraziness: Mycroft may or may not pop up in the next few chapters… but he will pop up eventually I promise you that!

Onto Chapter 5!

* * *

While Sherlock and Lestrade set out the Chinese food John watched Ciaran. He had seen the look in Ciaran's eyes when he was talking to Sally. He had seen that look before, mainly on the enemy soldiers in Afghanistan. The look spoke of predator and prey.

"So Ciaran, what did you do before you became a bartender?" John asked as he fought with his chopsticks. "Oh I was an artist."

"And before that?"

"I did the odd job here and there for my family." Ciaran smiled at the army doctor. He knew of Johns suspicions and was working to alleviate them. "So Sherlock, continue the story. What happened on the date?" Lestrade interrupted John's line of questioning.

"How about the second one Sherl?" Ciaran grimaced alongside his husband which only fanned the flames of their curiosity.

"Oh no, now you have to tell us what happened!" Greg insisted and, to his surprise, Sherlock drew a breath and started to do so.

* * *

Mrs. Hudson looked between her tenant and the strange man standing in the sitting area. "Oh dear I've interrupted something haven't I?" She gasped then tried not to wince as Sherlock glared at her. "I was going to offer him some tea already but thank you Mrs. Hudson." He said simply and the older woman realized that Sherlock was on his best manners. _Oh I should have this man around more often if Sherlock is going to act like this! _She thought to herself with a smile. "Well I'll just bring some up for you both shall I?" She beamed and left the room.

"House keeper?"

"Landlady actually. But she does act like a house keeper." Sherlock muttered to Ciaran. "There is something else I would like to talk to you about while I have your attention.

Ciaran looked over at the tall detective and tipped his head in confusion. "Alright then, what is it?" He said no unkindly.

"I...well...hmm...I wish to make it known that..." He started but broke off when Mrs. Hudson came in with the tea. "Good thing I already had a full pot going!" Her beaming smile fell as she fled from the glare Sherlock threw at her.

"What do you wish to make known?" Ciaran asked with a brave smile making Sherlock's face get hot again. _Why does it keep doing that?_

"I wish to...I would like..." Sherlock fiddled with his tea cup trying to find the right words. "I wish to make it known that I would like to start a relationship with you. Hopefully a romantic relationship but I would not be adverse to a platonic one either..." Sherlock muttered in a rush of words.

Ciaran stared at Sherlock until he shifted uncomfortably. His past experiences with admitting his attraction had not gone over well and just as he was about to retract his statement Ciaran smiled at him.

"I would love to go on a date with you."

* * *

Sherlock swore in several languages as he grabbed his foot in pain. He was in such a rush to get out the door that he had stubbed his toe on the coffee table. "Keys, wallet...Phone where is my phone?" He asked himself as he patted his pockets. "Gland experiment." he muttered and darted back to the kitchen to find his phone sitting next to the lit Bunsen burner. "Experiments are off, have keys wallet, phone need a coat."

He had just grabbed his coat when a knock came at the door making him jump. "Didn't hesitate, has been here before. Or is just used to knocking on doors. Knocked on middle of door so he's a tad short..."his mind whirled as he opened the door to find Ciaran on the other side. "Ciaran what a surprise!" He beamed as the other man's brow furrowed in confusion. "Surprise?"

"Yes as in I wasn't expecting you."

"You...weren't expecting me?" Ciaran remarked slowly looking very confused.

"No... Should I have?" Sherlock asked as he locked his door behind him.

"Sherlock...its Friday."

"Yes last day of the work week. Was there something special about today that I should have remembered?"

There wasn't a great many things that could make Ciaran wish to slam his head against the wall but somehow Sherlock was managing it with ease.

"Sherlock we made plans for a date...this Friday at eight...Which was five minutes ago...If you wish not to go we can always reschedule if your busy."

Sherlock stared at the artist for a second. "We made a date when you dropped off the painting."

"Yes."

"A date in the romantic sense."

*sigh* "Yes Sherlock yes we did."

"I had forgotten lets go." Sherlock smiled as he grabbed his date by the hand and dragged him out the door. It was perfect really now he had company on his stake out. Scratch that, company he actually liked.

* * *

"A stake out..."

"Yes."

"Your first date was on a stake out."

"Oh just wait it gets better." Ciaran's eyes twinkled as he prodded his husband to continue the story.

* * *

Sherlock dragged his date out of 221B Baker Street and into a cab. "Alright let's be off." Sherlock smiled and told the cab driver the address of the restaurant then turned back to his date.

"You cut your hair."

Ciaran lifted a hand to his hair self-consciously. Where it had been all one length it was now short and choppy with the front part left long to hang down to an inch above his shoulders. "It was time for a trim and I figured why not just get a new cut while I was at it." He muttered and tried not to squeak as Sherlock leaned in close.

"It's short in the back but long in the front. You obviously cannot stand having hair tickle your neck so why leave the front long? You would obviously rather have your hair short all the way around but something is preventing you from doing it. Something you'd rather not have anyone see but you are not embarrassed by it. It's located somewhere high on your neck...a tattoo perhaps? I wish to see." Sherlock asked quickly leaning forward into his date's personal space.

"I'll show you if you back up, you're in my bubble." Ciaran scolded as he lifted the left side of his hair up and showed Sherlock the markings that adorned his skin.

Starting from behind his ear and stretching down a trail of small symbols seemed to flow down the side of Ciarans neck to disappear beneath his collar. Each symbol varied in size and shape and no two symbols were alike.

"That's beautiful...why hide it?" Sherlock asked as he lifted a finger to trace a large slightly anchored shape right beneath his ear lobe. "It's a family thing and somewhat personal." Was all Ciaran said and even when pressed, would say no more about it.

* * *

"Two please." Sherlock told the Maître D who gave a slight sneer at them. "Of course sirs, this way if you please."

Once they were seated by the window Sherlock had a hard time dividing his attention between watching for the suspect and listening to Ciaran. "What is so interesting?" The Irishman asked leaning over to look out the window. "Nothing...please continue."

"Ha either I'm boring you or you're watching for something... which is it?" He asked his violet eyes glowing slightly in the candle light. "I'm actually supposed to be on a stake out right now..." Sherlock admitted and then wilted under the purple stare.

"A stake out?"

"Yes."

"What are you looking for?"

"A tallish man with blond hair and green eyes, his name is Rupert De' Chavelle and he's a suspect in a murder..." He admitted quietly and frowned at his plate. He didn't remember eating the pasta.

"Okay...and I'm distracting you aren't I?" Ciaran asked as he toyed with his spoon. "A little bit yes..."

"Okay then I'll go and let you catch this guy alright?" He smiled sadly making Sherlock pale.

Ciaran wasn't supposed to be sad and just leave. He was supposed to rage at him for taking him out on a stake out...everyone else had done so, so why didn't he?

"No stay...he's probably not even going to show up anyways and I like talking to you." Sherlock smiled at the man who smiled and sat back down at the table. "What's for dessert?"

* * *

They were halfway through their cheese cake and vanilla mousse when a man entered the restaurant. "Why are you two watching me?" He demanded as he walked over to their table, his blond hair shining in the florescent lighting and his green eyes flashing with malice. "Who's watching you?" Ciaran asked quickly and drew his attention. "Both of you were I could see you stare out the window."

"Oh that...we weren't watching you we were waiting to see if it would rain. You see He thinks it's going to rain but I don't think it will...we have a bet going." Ciaran beamed then jumped as the blond man slammed his fist down on the table. "You have beautiful eyes...I wonder how they would look in a jar."

Sherlock stood and grabbed Ciarans hand. "Leave him alone, we're leaving now and there is no need for threatening behavior." He said as he drew Ciaran to his side. "I do believe there is." The suspect snarled at the couple.

* * *

John and Lestrade stared at Sherlock, waiting for the story to continue. "Well what happened?" Greg asked.

"Ciaran fell asleep."

"Wait the man threatens him and he just falls asleep?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and then drew their attention to the man sleeping on his shoulder. "No just now, Ciaran fell asleep. We'll pick this up tomorrow." Sherlock managed to snap and whisper at the same time which was impressive.

"Alright we'll let you put him to bed, but we'll be back in the morning to hear the rest of this story!" Greg smiled as he and John said their good byes.

* * *

After they left Sherlock gently moved so that his husband was laying against his chest rather than just his shoulder. Maneuvering him ever so carefully Sherlock picked up his husband and carried him into his bedroom, laying him down and tucking him in.

"If you're not actually asleep I'm going to kill you." the detective whispered as he pressed a gently kiss to his husbands forehead making him grumble. He then climbed in beside the sleeping man and after pulling him against his chest, went to sleep himself.

* * *

And that's all folks I will see you again next chapter which I KNOW you will not have to wait so long for! and as it is I apologize for how long you had to wait for this one to begin with... *hangs head*


	6. Chapter 6

**Title**: The Detective and the Artist

**Summary**: Sherlock has a secret. One that he has successfully kept from everyone in his life (including Mycroft). This secret just happens to stand 5'3 and works as an artist/bartender. But what happens when someone stumbles onto Sherlock's little secret?

**Rating**: Rated 'M' …cause you'll see why

**Disclaimer:**Just realized that I haven't done a disclaimer for this story but THAT'S OKAY! Cause I'm doing it now. I in no way shape or form, own Sherlock his cohorts or any of the Sherlock episodes…But I do own Ciaran…he's mine… that is all…

THANK YOU to:

As well as:

Finally downloaded the third season and Oh My god I freaking love drunk Sherlock! He's freaking hilarious!

Any who thank you all for waiting for this chapter I know that it took a while but. Yea Ciaran said he had something to do but wouldn't tell me what then just sort or ran off... then Sherlock ran to find him and John and Lestrade showed up early... it was just one giant cluster fuck...but now they're all here and Ciaran has promised not to run off for the foreseeable future... but I wouldn't bet on it... anywho!

* * *

CHAPTER 6

Sherlock struggled through the veil of sleep. He needed to wake but the veil refused to lift. "This is why I hate to sleep" He thought to himself. When he finally managed to tear open his eyes he sees the sweetest sight he always relishes to see.

Ciaran was paying curled up in his arms, he face pressed against his chest. The Irishman had one leg thrown over his and one of his arms draped over his chest. He was in a deep sleep.

Sherlock was loathe to wake his sleeping love and had only just decided not to when a knock came at the door. Ciaran jolted awake making Sherlock growl. Sometimes he hated the people he associated with and this was one of those times. "I'm awake." Ciaran yawned and struggled to sit up making Sherlock smile. He remembered the first time he had seen Ciaran do this and it never got old.

About a month into their relationship Sherlock had kept Ciaran occupied until the early morning hours. To be fair Ciaran had only been keeping him company while he struggled to solve a particularly vexing case and had forgotten to leave. At the moment said Irishman was asleep on Sherlock's shoulder.

Should I wake him or let him sleep?" The detective thought as he pondered his dilemma. He had not been good with social norms to begin with but now he was in the middle of a crisis. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.

"I'm just going to let him sleep but the couch is uncomfortable so I should place him somewhere where he will get a better quality of rest. The only place that is better to sleep on then the couch is my bed... But would that be considered too fast? I mean he's only going to sleep and I would be mainly in here with the case...What should I do?

Sherlock went over it in his mind for a good half an hour before making up his mind. He would just let Ciaran sleep in his bed and stay out here for the night. That way there is no miscommunication as to what happened and Ciaran would get a better quality of rest. That was the only thing he could think of to do. So he gently picked up the sleeping man and carried him into his bedroom to place him under the covers.

Giving a nod he gently closed the door and went back into the living room to finish the case.

The next morning Sherlock woke with a start with his cheek pressed against the arm of the sofa. He had fallen asleep sometime in the night. Better go check on Ciaran. He thought to himself. Besides it was his bedroom and he needed clothes for the day.

He quietly pushed open the door trying not to wake Ciaran who was curled up in the middle of the bed, still soundly asleep. "Oh good he's still asleep...Now to grab my clothes." He thought to himself and crept over to his closet for a shirt and pants. He didn't care if he didn't grab socks but he needed some clothes because after sleeping in the clothes he had on yesterday he felt grimy.

He slowly opened the door to his closet and then winced at the creak the hinges made. He had been meaning to oil them for some time.

Looking over his shoulder he breathed a sigh of relief that Ciaran was still asleep and slowly opened the closet door a little more. Only this time, instead of just the creaking, a box fell from the top shelf to land on some vials he stored at the bottom of the closet. The boxes and the vials came together with a crash and the tinkering of broken glass.

"I'm awake!" Ciaran gasped and jolted up to blink his bleary eyes at Sherlock. "Well there's no need to be so go back to sleep. I was just grabbing some clothes when this box fell so go back to sleep." Sherlock whispered and suddenly felt the need to hide in the closet. Why he did not know.

"That's alright I'm already awake...and in your bed?" Ciaran pondered as he looked over the bedspread. "Yes you fell asleep on my shoulder last night so I brought you in here to rest. Since I was going to spend most of the night on the sofa anyways I did not see the harm in doing so...Though I should not have done?" He asked.

Ciaran pondered for a moment before smiling at Sherlock. "That's alright thought you could have just left me there and I wouldn't have noticed a thing. But thank you for the thought." He smiled and walked over to press a kiss to Sherlock's cheek making the detective blush.

* * *

"Alright time to get up!" Came a shout from the hallway making Sherlock glare and cling onto Ciaran. "I think John left his gun here if you distract them I can get to it, soot them and then we can go back to bed..." Sherlock growled against Ciaran's neck making him laugh. "Come on Love, the quicker we do this the quicker we can get back into bed." He soothed before giving a yank that pulled Sherlock out of bed and onto the floor with a yelp. "Oh that's it I'm about to become a widow." The detective snarled as he lunged for Ciaran.

Ciaran gave a small cry of surprise before bolting out into the living room, clutching Sherlock's sheet. "Bring it!" He cried as he ran around the living room. He loved being chased by Sherlock, for he was the only one smart enough and fast enough to catch him. Which he did, and rather quickly as well.

With one good lunge Sherlock managed to tackle his husband who gave a surprised cry. Luckily they managed to land onto the couch where they fought over the sheet like two small children. "That's mine." Sherlock growled and Ciaran tried very hard not to laugh. "We're married so only half of it is yours, LOVE." He giggled then winced as the front door flew open to reveal John and Greg standing on the threshold. "Jesus Sherlock! I thought that you and Ciaran were being attacked!" John snarled at the man who only glared at him.

"Well technically..." Ciaran trailed off on a laugh as Sherlock went for his ribs. "Do it..." He muttered and ticked the man beneath him viscously until he got a bad case of the hiccups. "Thank you." Sherlock smiled at the man before grabbing his sheet.

"Did you really just tickle your husband until he got the hiccups?" John asked. Sherlock merely lifted an eye brow at the question. "He had my sheet."

"Alright never mind. We brought breakfast...I'm going to get your husband some water." then you can continue the story." John said as he went to do precisely that.

* * *

The suspect leaned over the table to loom over the Irishman. "I want to know why you were staring at me!" The man snarled.

Then Ciaran did something entirely unexpected. With one quick move he slammed the heel of his hand up into the suspect's nose, breaking it with one quick move.

The suspect howled in pain as he grabbed his nose, which gave Ciaran the space to scoot out from the corner that he had been backed up in. "I keep telling you that we were not staring at you. Now leave us be!" Ciaran growled as he slipped past De' Chavelle and held up two clenched fists.

But before De' Chavelle could attack back, five coppers burst in through the door and held the three at gun point. "On the ground NOW!'

* * *

"Wait a second your first date ended with you two getting arrested for violence?" John asked and tried not to laugh at Sherlocks sulk. "The date was not supposed to end that way!" he cried making Ciaran laugh. "And it didn't remember?"

* * *

End of chapter six of The Artist and The Detective!

Woot woot!


	7. Chapter 7

title: The Detective And The Artist

Summary: Sherlock has a secret. One that he has successfully kept from everyone in his life (including Mycroft). This secret just happens to stand 5'3 and works as an artist/bartender. But what happens when someone stumbles onto Sherlock's little secret?

Rating: Now 'M' due to complaints over rating

Thank you's too: .sexy, FanofHarry-Sherlock, BowtiesWaistcoatsAndCurls, GracefulDancingWolf, RhysWinslow, and Moon-fireflies for following my story!

THank you's too: .sexy, ChibiCheshire and GracefulDancingWolf for favoring my story!

Responce to Reviews (Cause lets face it, sending out multiple messages is a pain):

Uniquely X: you already have my response that the story will progress to 'M' rating but they will get a warning when that does.

GracefulDanceingWolf: Hurrah for Dial-up! Hmmm, confusion isn't good...what are you confused about? And Thank you!

* * *

Chapter 7

After being sprung from jail Sherlock and Ciaran hopped into a cab to go to another restaurant. To be fair they didn't really eat much when on the impromptu stake out slash date. "Lets try this again shall we?" Sherlock asked quietly making Ciaran smile. "Definitely...though no murderers alright?"

That date went off without a hitch, both parties actually paying attention to the conversation and they ended up staying until the host came over to kick them out. "Alright you two, we have to close up now...please take your gooey-ness to another location please." He grinned as he gave them their bill, which was then fought over until they decided to split it.

"What did he mean by gooey-ness?" Sherlock asked as they walked down the street. "No idea." Ciaran smiled up at the pale eyed detective.

They walked for maybe a block before Sherlock jumped at the feel of Ciaran's hand that had somehow entwined with his.

He looked over at Ciaran to find the small Irishman looking forward with a slight blush staining his cheeks.

Ciaran walked Sherlock home and blushed when he dropped him off at the door. "Talk to you later?" He asked then tilted up on his toes to skim his lips over the man's cheek. "I'll see you around Sherlock."

The next morning Sherlock found himself sitting in his chair staring off into space. He didn't know what to make of his date last night. Ciaran had been arrested during dinner and instead of breaking the date off there (like a normal person would) he suggested another try at dinner. Then he held his hand and kissed his cheek. Did that mean he liked the date? If he did, would he want to go out again? Sherlock didn't mind if he did but he had no way of knowing what Ciaran thought.

People were confusing.

* * *

Two days later Sherlock phone rang while he was on a crime scene and, not thinking, answered it.

_"Oh good I have the right number haha, Its Ciaran."_

Sherlock jolted up making Anderson flinch. Covering the mouth piece with one hand he nodded towards Lestrade. "Excuse me I have to take this." he said and walked out the door while the Detective Inspector cursed.

"Hi Ciaran."

_"Hi Sherlock."_

"What can I do for you?"

_"Many things probably but I called to see if you wanted to go out again..."_

Sherlock stared off into space as his mind whirled.

_"If you don't want too..."_

"No no I do want to go out again... When would you like to go...out?"

Ciaran laughed on the other end of the phone.

_"How about this Friday? I promise to behave if you promise not to do an impromptu stake out. Haha."_

"Alright, shall I meet you somewhere or do you just want to meet at my flat again?"

_"Your flat is fine with me, Hey if you don't feel like going out we can do dinner and a movie on your sofa if you want."_

"That sounds...What the hell are you doing? Go away." Sherlock snapped as Donovan tried to scoot over to eavesdrop on his conversation and with a huff flounced off.

"Let me try that again, that sounds nice. What dinner would you like?"

_"No idea, I can cook something if you want."_

Sherlock stopped and thought about the state of the kitchen and all the experiments he had going.

_"Or we could order in if you want."_

"That would probably be best as I have a lot of experiments going on in the kitchen...So Friday then?"

_"What time should I be there?"_

"Doesn't matter as long as you come over."

_"Alright then, Friday it is."_

* * *

If anyone had looked into 221b Baker Street come Friday they would have noticed something very odd going on. Then again there is ALWAYS someone watching.

They would have seen Sherlock running around his flat, in a suit, cleaning everything he could. Which was very suspicious behavior.

"Sherlock...what ARE you doing?" Mycroft asked from the doorway making him jolt. "Cleaning, surely you have heard of it?"

Sherlock's response set off warning bells in Mycroft's head. Sherlock did not clean. Not for company and surely not just for the hell of it. "Why are you cleaning?"

"I'm getting ready for company. Now please leave he will be here soon with some boring movie no doubt."

"Movie?"

"Yes we are having dinner and a movie. Now will you please leave?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you are having a night in with...a friend?"

Sherlock thought for a moment. He had forgotten that Mycroft was no longer the easy going teenager that Sherlock had been used to. Now he needed to know EVERYTHING that went on in Sherlock's life and had a nasty habit of getting rid of 'undesirable' people.

"It's an experiment. I'm trying to see if someone will willingly tell another person anything because they had gotten to know them. Now please leave you will interfere with the results."

Mycroft sighed at his brothers tone. He had hoped, for once, that Sherlock had made a friend. He thought he had with that man he was seen with last Friday as they had gone to dinner twice (in one evening).

"Alright dear brother, just remember that people don't like being lied to."

* * *

After an hour of waiting and worrying about if everything was put away, the doorbell finally rang.

"I'LL GET IT!" He shouted down at his landlady and sprinted down the stairs and opened the door to find a surprised Ciaran standing on the other side. "Hi."

"Hello."

"May I come in? I sware I'm only trying to sell you some encyclopedias." Ciaran joked making him chuckle. Sherlock moved aside letting the man in and taking note of his clothing.

He was dressed in large black pants that had chains wrapped around the waist to dangle around his hips. He had on a black long sleeve shirt with strange writing over the fabric and a short sleeve shirt on over that with a picture of a strange pink teddy bear on it with a mow hawk and piercings. His hair was still the same though, short in the back, long in the front and as black as midnight. Then he noticed the small blue stuffed duck hanging from one of the chains.

"I have to ask about the duck." Sherlock queried as he followed his date up to his flat.

Ciaran turned around and gave Sherlock a sly smile. "Oh that's Mr. Kitty he protects me from rabid squirrels."

Sherlock just nodded and followed the strange person up the stairs. At least he wasn't boring.

Turns out that Ciaran doesn't like action films and they watched a documentary called Life in the Undergrowth. Semi-useless information but fascinating in any case. "I adored the large red and black Millipedes. I want one!" Ciaran exclaimed as they switched disks. "I want the bat eating centipede." Sherlock remarked wondering what kind of venom it had and how potent it was.

"True those are cool too but then you'd have to keep catching bats to feed the damn thing." Ciaran laughed making Sherlock grin. "True, but think about the venom it has..." he responded making Ciaran laugh.

"Alright you have a point...But now I think it's time for a break and I'm hungry anyways. What do you want to order?"

"Curry?"

"I can do curry."

After the curry had been eaten they sat down to watch the second disk of the documentary.

Ciaran smiled as he felt Sherlock scooting closer to him, ever so slightly. So he leaned over and pressed himself against Sherlock's side, drawing an arm around his shoulders. "That's better, do you mind?"

Sherlock blushed and clutched at him. "No I don't mind at all."

Ciaran left soon afterwards, leaving Sherlock with a small kiss to his cheek. This confused the detective more than anything he's ever encountered. Then again, human interaction generally did.

* * *

Hello It's me the author of this drabble, as you can tell I'm having a bit of trouble with this fiction…I sort of have a plan but have no idea how to get to it 0_o so it might take a while for the next chapter…. And stupid me forgot to post chapter six...which is why you are getting two chapters today... (three if you count Accidental Daddy)

Also '_Life in The Undergrowth' _Is actually a documentary and it's AWESOME! It has spiders, giant millipedes, and there is actually a centipede that eats bats 0_o it's a foot long...creepy

Love you all for reading this!

Salcone Destrivina


	8. Chapter 8

**Title**: The Detective And The Artist

**Summary**: Sherlock has a secret. One that he has successfully kept from everyone in his life (including Mycroft). This secret just happens to stand 5'3 and works as an artist/bartender. But what happens when someone stumbles onto Sherlock's little secret? And what happens when that secret has a secret of his own?

Rating: Now 'M' due to complaints over rating

**Chapter**: 8

Response to Reviews:

**GracefulDancingWol**f: Why are you terrifies that I'm going to abandon this fic? Or rather both of them? I'm going to continue with both but Accidental Daddy has been in my head for a while. And TDATA isn't all that easy to write as it actually had a plot line (sort of, you can see it if you squint really hard and turn your head upside down. But it is there I swear!) so this fic is going to take a while to get out of my head.

**Guest**: Thank you and don't worry I'll keep going though it's taking a while to drag a chapter out of my head.

NOT SCOLDING EITHER OF YOU! Just explaining that this fic is a b*tch to write because of the plot line where Accidental Daddy I can just pull the next chapter out of my head and it'll fit the plot line…ish, this one I'm having a few issues with.

* * *

**Sweet Town of Derry**

Soon Sherlock and Ciaran had a standing date for Friday nights. That is, until one week they did not.

"Hey Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

Sherlock looked over from his now usual place on the couch to focus on the man curled up on his side. Perhaps he wished to take their relationship to 'the next level'.

"Just wanted you to know that I won't be able to make it next Friday. My co-worker was fired and Mike asked me to fill in for him next Friday."

Sherlock stared at the Irishman. He thought he would want to progress in their relationship but instead he was canceling. Perhaps he had done something wrong. But to be sure he would try to change the night instead.

"Oh...Alright...would you like to try for Saturday or Sunday?" Sherlock asked thinking that if Ciaran did not want to change the night of their date then he had done something wrong. He was sure of it.

* * *

Ciaran beamed at him. He really loved it when Ciaran smiled at him, that way he knew he did something good. "Unfortunately I'm working Saturday but Sunday will be lovely." He said and curled back up into Sherlock's side. Which confused him a little more as everything he thought Ciaran would do, he did the opposite.

* * *

Friday night came and Sherlock was working a case as his usual plans had been disrupted. He was tracking a small time drug dealer that DI Dimmock asked him to find. Being bored Sherlock agreed, much to Lestrades discomfort.

He tracked the man across town and into a little known bar. Ciaran works here He thought as he entered the establishment, already thinking of asking the Irishman if he would help him track down the drug dealer.

He knew that the Irishman was working tonight but was a little confused when he did not see Ciaran behind the bar. "Hello sweetie! What can I get for you?" said the short red head behind the bar. "I'm looking for Ciaran, I thought he was working tonight." He said making the red head smile.

"He is working Sug, But he's not a bartender tonight, he's entertainment! Wait a minute and you'll see him on stage!" the red head grinned at Sherlocks discomfort.

Sherlock sighed and turned towards the stage. This turned out to be a big mistake.

* * *

Ciaran was indeed up on stage but at the moment he was not singing or dancing, he was only messing with the microphone and making strange gestures towards the lights. "And he is doing what exactly?" Sherlock asked the red head making him laugh. "Oh he's doing prep for his song. You see, one of the entertainers was fired so the manager asked Ciar to fill in for tonight and the next." He smiled then turned towards the stage.

Ciaran sighed as he picked up his guitar and strummed a chord. "Alright people, this is 'Back Home in Derry." He said into the microphone and began to strum and sing.

_In 1803, we sailed out to sea  
Out of the sweet town of Derry  
For Australia bound, if we didn't all drown  
The marks of out fetters we carried  
In our rusty iron chains, we cried for our wains  
Our good women we left in sorrow  
As the mainsails unfurled, our curses we hurled  
At the English and thoughts of tomorrow  
_

Sherlock stared at his boyfriend as he stood on the stage and sang the sad tune. Even the bar had quieted to hear what he sang.

_At the mouth of the Foyle bid farwell to the soil  
As down below decks we were lying.  
O'Docherty' screamed, woken out of a dream  
By a vision of bold Robert dying.  
The sun burned cruel as we dished out the gruel  
Dan O'Connor was down with a fever  
Sixty rebels today bound for Botany Bay.  
How many would reach their receiver?_

_Oh... I wish I was back home in Derry_  
_Oh... I wish I was back home in Derry_

_We cursed them to Hell,_  
_As our bow fought the swell_  
_Our ship danced like a moth in the firelight._  
_Wild horses rode high as the devil passed by_  
_Taking souls into Hades by twilight_  
_Five weeks out to sea we were now 43_  
_We buried our comrades each morning_  
_In our own slime, lost in a time,_  
_Endless nights without dawning_

_Oh... I wish I was back home in Derry_  
_Oh... I wish I was back home in Derry_

Sherlock could see the tears in the corner of the Irishman's eyes. He was obviously thinking of his home back in Ireland. Where in Ireland Sherlock did not know. Thinking back on the last few conversations he's had with Ciaran Sherlock realized that he didn't know much about his boyfriends life before he came to London.

_Van Diemens Land is a hell for a man  
To live out his whole life in slavery  
Where the climate is raw and the gun makes the law  
Neither wind nor rain care for bravery  
Twenty years have gone by and I've ended my bond  
My comrades' ghosts walk beside me  
A rebel I came; I'm still the same  
On a cold winter's night you will find me_

_Oh... I wish I was back home in Derry_  
_Oh... I wish I was back home in Derry_  
_Oh... I wish I was back home in Derry_  
_Oh... I wish I was back home in Derry_

As Ciaran took a bow Sherlock did something he had never done before. He joined the crowd in applauding Ciaran's performance. As much as the detective enjoyed it, he would rather not have Ciaran sing that particular song again. Not if it made him think sadly of home.

Sherlock sighed and drained his glass of water before heading for the doors. He had seen his suspect leaving only a few second before and wanted to catch up with him before Ciaran saw him.

* * *

Alright peoples, that's chapter eight of The Detective and the Artist. I suggest looking up Back Home In Derry by Hair of The Dog. They're an awesome Irish band (One of my favorites). They're on Youtube btw.

Anyways I'm having issued with this story as it's not going the way I planned probably because I planned it out. Which I never do as plans get jumbled and sort of get in the way of writing so I think I'm going to use a skeleton plot and maybe that will help.

Anyways I hope you had fun reading this story. And I swear there is a point to this chapter…I swear…

Salcone Destrivina


End file.
